Punching the ticket REWRITE
by purple devil 87
Summary: My old original story punching the ticket is now rewritten and much much better now so please enjoy this new and improved edit.
1. Chapter 1

Wake up, school, sleep. Wake up, school, sleep.

At its most simplified explanation that was Jonathan's life. It had no change or purpose. It had no variety (beyond the names he was called in passing between classes). Simply put his life was degrading him.

Yet what degraded him more was his friendship with Sock. Forbidden as it was, in the moments Sock had where he wasn't mentioning the fact he should kill himself he was kinder. As wrong as it felt to feel loved by someone meant to drive him to death he did feel that way. But it also hurt. The fleeting moments always came to an end and he fell back into the torturous moments. He'd tried to ignore Sock for a while and push him away but inside it hurt badly. He wanted to love him so badly, but the ignorance cut at his feelings trying to tear them away.

Jonathan had at times the niggling feeling that his mood was only a product of how everyone saw him and wasn't something to dote on and drag him down, but his thoughts always seemed to get the better of him and pounded incessantly in his mind.

"Finally on his way out Sowachowski. Ya doin good." It was but one of the many other unheard phrases uttered during the demons "one sided conversations". If the words had done anything to quell Socks worried feelings it was temporary, lasting only a few seconds. He tried his best to stay oblivious, but it was hard not to notice people become nervous and worried around Jonathan as he would yell and berate Sock for his constant annoyances which would soon be abruptly apologised for. Although it also didn't help that Sock was only visible to Jonathan.

Jonathan watched the note slip from his grasp and fall into the water of the tub. He stared transfixed as the words bled into the paper and the ink smeared about. He didn't need to read the note anyways. The words where freshly emblazoned into his mind. "Kill yourself psycho. Nobody wants you." The note was one found lying crinkled and smudged in the bottom of his locker most likely from one of his peers at school. It did nothing to help.

The water of his bath was invitingly deep and warm. He slid in laying against the side of the tub. The weight of the water pressed on his lungs and he felt the unmistakable burn of held breath and forgotten reasons to fulfill his life. He felt the solidness of cool hands on his shoulders and knew the familiar touch. Sock. He waited feeling the pressure grow until he passed out.


	2. Chapter 2

There was the unmistakable silence throughout the house usually Jonathan would have been doing something and it would have been less quiet. Floating through the hall he heard the breathing. it was deep and came in gasps. He didn't remember rushing into the bathroom holding Jonathans unconscious and wet figure in his arms. He didn't remember watching him die. At least he tried not to remember as it hurt. It hurt more than it ever did when he was ignored or when he had pestered Jonathan to his breaking point.

Days passed and moments slowed. He wondered from time to time if Mephistopheles would ever give him another assignment. He waited. Sometimes he would sit and remember all the moments he had with Jonathan. The ones before it went south. The ones where he thought maybe Jonathan felt the same way. Where maybe someone loved him. Loved him for the first time in his life.

It was during math class that there was a phone call. "Jonathan can I speak with you?" The teacher called him away. Sock looked over. He saw a familiar look. It was one he had worn when he awoke knife in hand to his parents helpless cries. It was one he had held when he killed himself. The phone slipped from Jonathan's grasp as he stood numb and saddened. He gathered his things and left.

Later that day after his mom had picked him up and dropped him at home Sock had asked. Jonathan sat down on the edge of his bed and took a shaky breath. "Y-you wouldn't understand." "You sure?" "W-well…" Jonathan paused considering everything "It was my dad." " What happened?" Sock could see tears well in his eyes " He's dead now. I-It was a car accident." Sock gently set his hand on Jonathans knee surprised that it didn't go right through him. They were so close. Sock wondered what would happen if he kissed him. Jonathan was so vulnerable in this moment, he was so exposed, but Sock comforted him. He gave him love and hope...and then he didn't

Sock regretted everything he had ever said to Jonathan. Sock regretted his death. It could have been any other person.


	3. Chapter 3

His life shifted out of whack. For a fleeting second It felt so slow and sad and then it whizzed by as he tried to forget the days and just get through them. He felt like his life came in snapshots. Jonathan's death, the memories, the graves.

The graves stretched for miles. They stood adorned with rounded tombstones engraved with names. One stood out in particular. Jonathan combs. As he stared at it he felt something inside sever. His eyes felt like two twin monsoons. Unending and dripping on and on and on, and his heart felt like delicate glass. In that moment he wanted to curl up and stop existing. It was one thing to kill yourself, but for Sock it wasnt enough. He opened his eyes (which he hadn't realised where closed) and dried them, then promptly found himself staring into blackness. Was this it? Was this the final end he had wanted so badly? But a friendly hand extended itself. A familiar one. "Welcome to hell would yo- Sock?! What are you doing here?" he turned facing Mephistopheles "I'm not supposed to be here?"

Jojo. It was a familiar name to Sock. It was the name of the start to a Rube goldberg of mistakes. Sock gave her a squirrel he had killed. Big mistake. She ran off nauseated chasing away everyone who had a chance befriending him at school. After that his parents grew worried. He began to feel bad and use his killing as a crutch. Big mistake. He killed his parents in his sleep. Big mistake. He killed himself. Later he befriended a boy he was tasked to kill. Jonathan combs to be exact. Big mistake. He developed a crush on Jonathan. Big mistake. Jonathan killed himself after Socks pestering. Big, big mistake. Yet when it came to light that there was a purpose for Jonathan's soul, when it came to light that he wasn't made to be killed, things went awry.

Yet… there was one solution. To dispose of the both of them. After an incident like this there was no way Sock was to kill anybody else. And as for Jonathan there was the problem of him not being fit for hell with such a pure soul. So they were dumped back on earth bodiless and dead. Jonathan always called him a ghost. Well now they both were ghosts.


	4. Chapter 4

Where the hell was he? He had no idea and for as far as the eye could see there were trees. In the distance there was a noise, muffled and indistinguishable. For a second he ignored it looking down noticing a red string tied about his wrist. It trailed off into the distance. He tried untying it but it didn't budge. Annoyed he tore at it holding it with his teeth trying to rip the string apart. It seemed as strong as steel. Again nothing. Sighing he left it alone. The noise in the background persisted again becoming clearer. It sounded like someone familiar was calling his name. For a second he wondered if it was Jonathan.

Looking at the string he felt his heart pulled toward it and the thought of Jonathan popped into his mind. Another thought, (this time more insane) weaseled its way into his mind. "Follow the red string." It said. It was crazy, but he had nothing better to do.

He began walking. When he looked at the string he saw only that, and as he went he never tired, or grew hungry, he just was. The world passed around him and he never noticed. But it never seemed to end. For a while he doubted it did anything. Yet the string seemed suddenly...taut...like someone on the other end was approaching him. There was the voice again in the distance but it seemed louder. It spoke differently this time. "I know you never meant it Sock. I know you where only put up to it. I shouldn't have listened. Then maybe I would have had a normal life. ...I'll find you." It was all the proof he needed. Jonathan was out there somewhere. A deep seated feeling arose in his gut. Keep going. Don't stop. The string has its purpose.


	5. Chapter 5

The string began to droop. It was like whoever held the other end had let go, doubting it for a brief moment like he had. Yet he pushed on. It grew taut again later and he stopped. He was on a small country road when Jonathans voice arose once more quite loudly this time. He paused briefly to listen. "I'm lonely,...your probably lonely too. I'm sorry for what I did, and you must be sorry for what you did. I love you and I need you. ...I need you so, so bad." No longer was it faint. For a split second Socks eyes widened and he paused. A lump caught in his throat. After everything he did Jonathan loved him? He never thought he would. "I need you too." Sock thought. "It's not just your heart that's hurting." With each step closer the string brought them together, and this Sock now was certain of.

The moment was inexorable. They met right by Jonathans grave. Sock watched Jonathan approach in the distance "It's nice to see a familiar face after wandering for so long." Sock chided "Yeah it is." Jonathan agreed. Sock looked down noticing the same string tied about Jonathan's wrist, but this time it didn't stretch into the distance. It was connected to Socks end. In the moment it seemed Jonathan didn't notice it

There was a feeling within Jonathan. He knew what he needed to do. "I know im not one to share feelings or be very emotional, but Sock...after all of this that you put me through I love you. It feels wrong to say that, but it's true." Sock felt different. He had heard those words somewhere before, but it was like they were gone from his mind, vanished, left, and prepared him for this exact "I love you". "Jonathan you know I loved you and cared for you. There's no need to tell me this. I'm so sorry for everything I did, but I couldn't help it. There were things I was told to do. ...Like make you kill yourself. It was my job. It could have been any other person, but you…" Tears began to well in Socks eyes and he paused looking down. Jonathan placed his arms around him gently hugging him."No I couldn't do that."


	6. Chapter 6

Jonathan held him close letting him cry. It was like the moment with his father's death. Yet this time Sock needed love, but it wasn't enough. Jonathan felt a longing inside that Socks comfort barley filled. Sock pulled away, his hands resting gently on Jonathans shoulders. "You ever been kissed before Sock?'' The question threw him off guard. "No." Sock replied unsurely "Then I'll kiss you."

Sock was unprepared. The kiss he'd wanted for so long. Jonathan's love he'd wanted for so long. This moment he wanted...just wanted. Well now he had it all. As their foreheads met Sock felt his hat fall off but he didn't care. All he wanted was to hold Jonathan in this moment. Hold his lips with his. Hold his love in his arms. Hold his very being and never let go. Jonathan was a fine specimen that Sock had gone through turmoil to have and now he never wanted to leave him.

Their lips parted. This and that and everything he had ever felt was rushing everywhere in his body and he could feel it surging within. It felt like he was glowing with love. He looked over at Jonathans wrist and gently took it untying the string. It came undone easily now falling away to the ground. The knot on Socks end was untied too releasing with a single pull of the string within Jonathans hand.

Sock smiled at him. Jonathan chuckled as the slight breeze blew about Socks cowlick. Sock reached down grabbing his hat and then took Jonathans hand. It was smooth and warm. They sat down under the tree next to Jonathan's grave. They sat down together holding each other in their arms. Sock stared at the spot on the ground where the string once was. It was gone. It probably blew away in the breeze. The world turned around them, constantly in a state of making and unmaking and change and they watched it happen, sitting together.


End file.
